SHORTLY AFTER 4 P.M., Kord learned the Honda driven by the suspect was found at a used car lot.
The owner of the dealership became suspicious when the news indicated a potential killer was on the loose in a car matching one he’d just taken as a trade-in. A Hispanic man with an accent had paid cash for a red Chevy pickup truck. He wore jeans, a T-shirt that said Anything for Selenas, a tattered cowboy hat, and dirt-covered boots. Went by the name of Jose Alvarez. Upon further questioning, the dealer claimed Alvarez was of slight build and had no mustache.
They assumed at least two men were involved in the assassination attempts, but that speculation needed verification.
HPD verified the Honda had been reported stolen the day before, and the owner of the used car lot had been given a false title. Kord relived the frustration he’d seen in Monica’s face earlier.
Nasim hadn’t called, and Kord feared the worst. Others inside Iraq could provide valuable intel, but this man was a friend. Took risks to bring positive changes to his country and the Middle East. The tragedy in Nasim’s life made Kord question why he considered the existence of God, why the matter pressed against his mind. Only his desire to find a superior being who made more sense than the failings of mankind kept him looking, exploring.
He’d become way too philosophical.
Kord walked to the natatorium, reaching deep and searching for who and what motivated the relentless assault. Two and a half days with Prince Omar, and he knew little more than on Tuesday morning when he’d met his friend at the airport.
Prince Omar entered the area and the two men ventured outside onto the grounds, warm with the western sun. “Kord, you would tell me if the plot is from the Americans?”
The somber look on his old friend’s face clouded the truth of who Kord was and his ideals. “I assure you the US government is not behind this. Why would SAC Thomas and the CIA be supporting you to end the killings and crimes?”
“The perfect American cover-up?”
“No, Amir. In this instance you’re wrong. I understand your doubt, the distrust, but the US government is on your side. Are you thinking Malik is innocent?”
“Looking at all the possibilities. I’ve spent hours thinking through every person in this house and at home, even my sisters. Kord, I have no suspects.”
“Malik is no longer here, but he could have easily given your schedule to the media, or an accomplice, before arriving in the US. He could also have arranged for the bomb to be planted in the food delivery. If he isn’t the one who betrayed you, we’ll soon find out.”
“What course of action do you recommend? Because the waiting is making me short-tempered.”
“I suggest rearranging every item —again. Better yet, don’t go anywhere.”
The prince smiled despite the bleak circumstances. “That won’t happen. Once dinner is over, we’ll retire to my office and reschedule everything. It may be a problem with some appointments, especially those regarding my mother. For example it’s impossible to change her surgery date and time. We’ll need extra men with us to cover it.”
“For the after-dinner meeting, shall I include Monica?” Kord wanted her input rather than giving info to her secondhand.
“I prefer she keep company with my sisters.”
“What have you heard from their conversations?”
He gave a slight nod. “Come with me, and you’ll see the burden I have with my sisters.”
The two returned to the house and entered Prince Omar’s office. He closed the door. The prince inserted a flash drive into his laptop. Once the recordings were downloaded, Kord listened to Yasmine’s confession about her relationship with Malik. Fatima’s voice came through as well as Monica’s with comments and questions. But the confession of what Monica experienced two years ago came as a surprise. Kord knew she’d killed an operative when he used biological weapons on a village in Africa. But he didn’t know the extent of her involvement with the man. Now he understood why she followed up on his every move. Her lack of trust came into play. She blamed herself and couldn’t get past it.
Prince Omar ejected the flash drive and tossed it in his hand. “Miss Alden is fearless, although she blames herself for the tragedy in Africa.”
“Why did you want me to hear the recording?”
“To commend you on your partner’s sensitivity to a young woman’s feelings in the midst of her pain. And . . .”
“What?”
“Fatima still has feelings for you. When she learned you were assigned to me, she was upset. Yasmine told me about her foolishness.”
Kord valued the word foolishness. A sense of what Malik went through crept into his mind. “I never led her to believe I had interest.”
“You talked with her as a friend on two occasions, and on the second, you reminded her that your meeting was forbidden, and it could not happen again.”
“I should have told you myself, and I apologize.” The idea of Fatima still hurting unsettled him.
The prince waved away Kord’s comment. “She will have a husband soon. A favorable match for both families, and he has no other wives. She’s not aware. I intend to tell her before dinner.”
Marrying a man she didn’t love wasn’t the solution, not in Western culture anyway.
“Fatima is a woman weak with emotion, like her younger sister. Once she’s busy with a husband and family, she’ll be happy.
“If Malik attempts to contact Yasmine, I must be informed immediately. His life is thin right now. Both Yasmine and Fatima have mobile phones with international accessibility. I blocked his number, but he could find the means to contact either of them.”
“I’d want to believe they would tell you.”
“Who is behind this? It’s as though another person lives in my mind and is transmitting my life to the enemy.” He sighed. “The source must be my original cell phone, like you suspect.”
“The security company was cleared. Are you confident in their discretion?”
“So far. I’d like to face this man and end it on my terms. As you say, playing defense isn’t my game.”
If only they could attach a name to the man instead of a faceless executioner. Kord took a look at his watch. “We have time to go over your itinerary, before I notify SAC Thomas and the CIA that we’ve taken measures to rearrange your schedule. We want to make sure tomorrow’s luncheon is leaked to the media.”
The prince’s new cell phone rang. He took the call while facing Kord. “What have you learned?” he said in Arabic. Prince Omar lifted a brow and thanked the caller. He ended the conversation. “We have answers. Someone within my country has paid an Iranian to carry out the assassination here in Houston. No names. My people are investigating the possibility of the Iranian government backing the plot. They may have nuclear weapons, but we’d blow them off the map first.”
“Neither is necessary.”
“Men take risks when the stakes are high.”
Kord snatched his own cell phone, called SAC Thomas, and revealed the recent findings. “The killer could have gotten access through Mexico, or he could be a naturalized citizen.”
“I’m working with a cartel informant,” SAC Thomas said. “He claims no hit contracts have come through. Send me the updated itinerary once you’ve finished it. I’ll have Malik questioned again. See if he’s ready to change his story.”
“Word about Nasim on your end?”
“Waiting.”
Kord hung up and relayed the SAC’s response to Prince Omar.
“Answers lead to arrests,” Prince Omar said. “Now to figure out who in my country seeks to betray me and why.”
“Have the conservatives followed through on any of their threats?”
“Only talk. But three men are dead.”
They needed so much more intel.